hard times(艰难时世)-第39章
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Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
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Hard Times 207
because I belong to the Bank too。”
Stephen thought； “What a hurry he is in！” He spoke so
confusedly。
“Well！” said Tom。 “Now look here！ When are you off？”
“T’ day’s Monday；” replied Stephen； considering。 “Why； sir；
Friday or Saturday； nigh ‘bout。”
“Friday or Saturday；” said Tom。 “Now； look here！ I am not sure
that I can do you the good turn I want to do you—that’s my sister；
you know； in your room—but I may be able to； and if I should not
be able to； there’s no harm done。 So I tell you what。 You’ll know
our light porter again？”
“Yes； sure；” said Stephen。
“Very well；” returned Tom。 “When you leave work of a night；
between this and your going away； just hang about the Bank an
hour or so； will you？ Don’t take on； as if you meant anything； if he
should see you hanging about there； because I shan’t put him up
to speak to you； unless I find I can do you the service I want to do
you。 In that case he’ll have a note or a message for you； but not
else。 Now look here！ You are sure you understand。”
He had wormed a finger； in the darkness； through a button…hole
of Stephen’s coat； and was screwing that corner of the garment
tight up； round and round； in an extraordinary manner。
“I understand； sir；” said Stephen。
“Now look here；” repeated Tom。 “Be sure you don’t make any
mistake then； and don’t forget。 I shall tell my sister as we go home；
what I have in view； and she’ll approve； I know。 Now look here！
You’re all right； are you？ You understand all about it？ Very well
then。 Come along； Loo！”
He pushed the door open as he called to her； but did not return
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Hard Times 208
into the room； or wait to be lighted down the narrow stairs。 He
was at the bottom when she began to descend； and was in the
street before she could take his arm。
Mrs Pegler remained in her corner until the brother and sister
were gone； and until Stephen came back with the candle in his
hand。 She was in a state of inexpressible admiration of Mrs
Bounderby； and； like an unaccountable old woman； wept；
“because she was such a pretty dear。” Yet Mrs Pegler was so
flurried lest the object of her admiration should return by chance；
or anybody else should come； that her cheerfulness was ended for
that night。 It was late too； to people who rose early and worked
hard； therefore the party broke up； and Stephen and Rachael
escorted their mysterious acquaintance to the door of the
Traveller’s Coffee House； where they parted from her。
They walked back together to the corner of the street where
Rachael lived； and as they drew nearer and nearer to it； silence
crept upon them。 When they came to the dark corner where their
unfrequent meetings always ended； they stopped； still silent； as if
both were afraid to speak。
“I shall strive t’ see thee agen； Rachael； afore I go； but if not—”
“Thou wilt not； Stephen； I know。 ’Tis better that we make up
our minds to be open wi’ one another。”
“Thou’rt awlus right。 ’Tis bolder and better。 I ha been thinkin
then； Rachael； that as ’tis but a day or two that remains ’twere
better for thee； my dear； not t’ be seen wi’ me。 ’T might bring thee
into trouble fur no good。”
“’Tis not for that； Stephen； that I mind。 But thou know’st our
old agreement。 ’Tis for that。”
“Well； well；” said he。 “’Tis better onyways。”
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“Thou’lt write to me； and tell me all that happens； Stephen？”
“Yes。 What can I say now； but Heaven be wi’ thee； Heaven bless
thee； Heaven thank thee and reward thee！”
“May it bless thee； Stephen； too； in all thy wanderings； and send
thee peace and rest at last！”
“I towd thee； my dear；” said Stephen Blackpool—“that night—
that I would never see or think o’ onything that angered me； but
thou； so much better than me； shouldst be beside it。 Thou’rt beside
it now。 Thou mak’st me see it wi’ a better eye。 Bless thee。 Good
night。 Good…bye！”
It was but a hurried parting in a common street； yet it was a
sacred remembrance to these two common people。 Utilitarian
economists； skeletons of schoolmasters； Commissioners of Fact；
genteel and used…up infidels； gabblers of many little dog’s…eared
creeds； the poor you will have always with you。 Cultivate in them；
while there is yet time； the utmost graces of the fancies and
affections； to adorn their lives so much in need of ornament； or； in
the day of your triumph； when romance is utterly driven out of
their souls； and they and a bare existence stand face to face；
Reality will take a wolfish turn； and make an end of you。
Stephen worked the next day； and the next； uncheered by a
word from any one； and shunned in all his comings and goings； as
before。 At the end of the second day； he saw land； at the end of the
third； his loom stood empty。
He had overstayed his hour in the street outside the Bank； on
each of the two first evenings； and nothing had happened there；
good or bad。 That he might not be remiss in his part of the
engagement； he resolved to wait full two hours； on this third and
last night。
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There was the lady who had once kept Mr Bounderby’s house；
sitting at the first floor window as he had seen her before； and
there was the light porter； sometimes talking with her there； and
sometimes looking over the blind below which had Bank upon it；
and sometimes coming to the door and standing on the steps for a
breath of air。 When he first came out； Stephen thought he might
be looking for him； and passed near； but the light porter only cast
his winking eyes upon him slightly； and said nothing。
Two hours were a long stretch of lounging about； after a long
day’s labour。 Stephen sat upon the step of a door； leaned against a
wall under an archway； strolled up and down； listened for the
church clock； stopped and watched children playing in the street。
Some purpose or other is so natural to every one； that a mere
loiterer always looks and feels remarkable。 When the first hour
was out； Stephen even began to have an uncomfortable sensation
upon him of being for the time a disreputable character。
Then came the lamplighter； and two lengthening lines of light
all down the long perspective of the street； until they were blended
and lost in the distance。 Mrs Sparsit closed the first floor window；
drew down the blind； and went upstairs。 Presently； a light went
upstairs after her； passing first the fanlight of the door； and
afterwards the two staircase windows； on its way up。 By…and…by；
one corner of the second floor blind was disturbed； as if Mrs
Sparsit’s eye were there； also the other corner； as if the light
porter’s eye were on that side。 Still no communication was made
to Stephen。 Much relieved when the two hours were at last
accomplished； he went away at a quick pace； as a recompense for
so much loitering。
He had only to take leave of his landlady； and lie down on his
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temporary bed upon the floor； for his bundle was made up for
tomorrow； and all was arranged for his departure。 He meant to be
clear of the town very early； before the Hands were in the streets。
It was barely daybreak； when； with a parting look round his
room； mournfully wondering whether he should ever see it again；
he went out。 The town was as entirely deserted as if the
inhabitants had abandoned it； rather than hold communication
with him。 Everything looked wan at that hour。 Even the coming
sun made but a pale waste in the sky； like a sad sea。
By the place where Rachael lived； though it was not in his way；
by the red brick streets； by the great silent factories； not trembling
yet； by the railway； where the danger…lights were waning in the
strengthening day； by the railway’s crazy neighbourhood； half
pulled down and half built up； by scattered red brick villas； where
the besmoked evergreens were sprinkled with a dirty powder； like
untidy snuff…takers； by coal…dust paths and many varieties of
ugliness； Stephen got to the top of the hill； and looked back。
Day was shining radiantly upon the town then； and the bells
were going for the morning work。 Domestic fires were not yet
lighted； and the high chimneys had the sky to themselves。 Puffing
out their poisonous volumes； they would not be long in hiding it；
but； for half an hour； some of the many windows were golden；
which showed the Coketown people a sun eternally in eclipse；
through a medium of smoked glass。
So strange to turn from the chimneys to the birds。 So strange to
have the road…dust on his feet instead of the coal…grit。 So strange
to have lived to his time of life； and yet to be
